She breathed heavy through the line. “Do you have a gun?”
“Yes.” Thanks to Tanner.
“Do you know how to use it?”
Not at all. “Yeah, of course,” I lied, acting like I totally had it under control. I so did not. I’d never touched a gun in my life.
“You’re a shittier liar than my brother, you know that, right?”
I snorted a dry laugh even though none of this was funny.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do…” Tyler began giving me the rundown on how to use a weapon. I tried to listen and learn, but all I could wonder is…could I really do it?
Then I thought about Hope, probably crying on her floor, begging for her life as my husband or one of his cronies put a bullet in her skull. Next, I thought about the same happening to Tanner. Thought about every single time my husband had laid a hand on me. About every person my husband had ever harmed. And then I thought of the one life he couldn’t have the chance to harm…
For my baby, for Tanner, for Archie…and for myself.
Fuck yeah, I could blow this nightmare away.
Three glasses of whiskey in and finally it started to dull the ache and actually give me a bit of clarity.
I mean, really, did Gia and I make any sense? Not really. Even with the heat dying down, and the trail growing cold, then what? Could I ever truly trust she’d be safe?
No. I’d worry about her constantly, and I’d always be watching our backs. So, then what? She’s just supposed to live in my house forever like a princess in a tall tower? She’d already been trapped once. That was no way to live her life. She couldn’t hide forever. I tried to convince myself this past week that somehow, I’d find a way.
How was I supposed to get her the medical care she needed during pregnancy? Oh, yeah, and then when the baby comes? Sure. I’ll just deliver it myself.
I was delusional, living in a fantasy world. Only caring about my future, not their future.
Just like Alex. I wanted my dreams. I never stopped and took the time to listen to hers.
It seemed no matter what I did in life, it always had the same outcome. Me. Alone. Maybe that’s just how things were meant to be.
At least I still had Archie. Right boy? I turned to him on the sofa next to me and ruffled his fur. He didn’t even crack an eyelid. Damn. Not even a huff. For the last hour, he’d been snoozing hardcore.
Damn, Archie, you’re not that old yet. Chuckling, I gave him a soft pat on the hind end, which usually got his attention. Nothing.
“Archie?” I snapped my fingers. Still nothing.
My heart pounded rapidly against my chest, and a sick feeling bubbled in my belly. No no no.
“Archie,” I croaked, jostling him. He was breathing, I could see that, but why wouldn’t he wake up? “Archie. Come on, Archie.” I kept shaking him, rubbing his fur.
Not now. Not today. I swore, the universe hated me. If my creator was in front of me at that moment, I’d probably have thrown a brick at Him for constantly giving me the shaft in life.
Finally, I got a faint eyelid cracking open, a deep breath, then he looked up at me with sad eyes then went right back to sleeping. Was he sick?
I shot up and dashed to my bedroom to put on my jeans. I had to get him to the vet. And then the room began to spin. The full effects of the booze hitting me all at once. I braced myself on my nightstand and waited for the tilt-a-whirl to stop.
Finally, I managed to get my damn pants on. What the fuck was I gonna do?
Mobile vet. There was one in town. I’d just call them and they could come to me. I raced back to my living room to fetch my phone, zipping up my jeans as I ran, eyes on my crotch to avoid another agonizing pain, albeit a physical one.
Zipper done, I raised my head. Then I stopped dead in my tracks. An impeccably dressed man was sitting on my sofa. He wore a long-sleeved black button down, fitted to his muscular frame, and grey suit pants. His dark hair was peppered with quite a bit of grey and his olive hand gingerly rubbed Archie’s head.
His lips started moving but it was hard to tell what he was saying from so far away. “…good boy,” was all I read. He stared at me straight in the face, eyes black as night. “Such a shame if something were to happen to him.”
My blood ran cold. I knew that man.
Angelo.
I lunged toward him. Then, suddenly, I felt a crack at the back of my skull, and everything went dark.
I opened my eyes and blinked, trying to get my vision to come into focus.
A dull, throbbing ache pulsated in my head and my ears were buzzing with painful vibrations. Finally, after a few moments, the haze lifted, and the room stopped spinning.
That goddamn fucker stood in front of me, smirking. I lifted my hands to start swinging but they were bound tightly behind the dining chair in which I had been tied. My calves were also tightly strapped to the legs of the chair.
Looking around the room, I took stock of the situation. Another man stood there, equally as large, with his ass leaning up against my sofa table. I suspected he was the one that got me from behind.
But how did they get in without me knowing? The fucking storm, the busted sensors. And my whiskey-laden brain hadn’t locked the door when the cops left. Well, shit. I would have only known they were coming if Archie could have warned me, but Archie was…
Oh god. Archie. My eyes darted around the home frantically searching for him. Was he still on the sofa? Did this fucker kill him? Breathing heavy, I tugged at the restraints, wanting to tear this man apart limb by limb.
He snatched one of my chairs and sat it in front of me, backwards. “I didn’t kill your dog…” Angelo said as he straddled the chair, reached into his pocket, and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. “Yet,” he finished as he blew the smoke out the side of his mouth.
Rage coursed through every muscle in my body. Wiggling, I tried to move, but only ended up knocking the chair over, my left shoulder and temple hitting the wood floor, hard.
Angelo snapped his fingers toward the man to my right. Eventually, the other man righted me back to sitting as G’s bastard husband sat there, laughing.
About that time, my front door opened and none other than the bane of my existence waltzed through.
“I checked all his other cabins…” I watched Miller’s mouth as he spoke to the men. Then he turned his head. “…hiding….she’s…else.” Fucking hell, this was frustrating. Finally, I caught sight of my dog. Archie moved toward Miller, albeit slowly. He was still pretty lethargic.
“Looks like they both woke up.” He turned and faced me straight on. “Anyone can be bought. Just takes the right bone dangled in front of them,” he added with a wink, acting like Archie hadn’t tried to take his hand off.
And that’s when everything clicked. Hal showing up, then the cops. Miller’d fed Archie the treats to incapacitate him and was getting paid handsomely from Angelo no doubt.
I growled and balled my fists. I was going to kill the motherfucker if I ever got my hands on him. As Miller stood to full height, walked over, and pulled out one of my bar stools to sit I wanted nothing more than to kick it out from underneath him.
“Woah, woah. Calm down, Radio,” the stocky Italian muscle said as Angelo laughed.
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s deaf, but no tard. He reads lips, and he can talk, sorta.” He then came closer to me, getting inches away from my face. “At least that’s what Alex told me. Right, Tanner?”